


Overridden

by SailorChibi



Series: Co-Pilots [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling, Extremis, Hugs, Human Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Lives, Jarvis is there to take care of him, Jarvis lives, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Infinity Wars, Protective Jarvis, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Tony ignores them, basically written purely to get them back in the suit, but no spoilers really, literally Jarvis lives, the team is very suspicious, tony knows what he wants, tony stark deserves love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: The first Tony time pilots the suit after Jarvis returns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to have porn, I, uh, don't really know what happened.

The Avengers alarm goes off at just past three in the morning. 

Tony flails awake, disoriented to find himself actually in bed instead of sitting in his workshop. The flashing red lights – originally installed to alert Clint of the alarm when he had his hearing aids out, and something Tony couldn’t bring himself to remove even though the team no longer lives here and the lights are nothing but an annoyance now – are agony on the eyes, and he covers his face as he fumbles his way out of bed, nearly falling on his face when his legs get tangled up in the sheets.

“FRIDAY, enough!” he yelps out, because between the lights and the siren he’s not going to have the brain capacity to fight if it doesn’t stop, and the sudden silence almost before Tony’s done speaking is startling. He blinks in the darkness, spots flashing in front of his eyes.

“Captain America for you, Boss,” she chirps, unfairly sunny at 3am, and a moment later Steve’s tense voice filters into the room.

“We could use your help on this one, Stark. It looks like Dr. Doom has decided to take advantage of the fact that the Fantastic Four is on vacation.”

“Why do they get to take vacations?” Tony mouths to himself – honestly, the idea of a vacation at this point of his life is laughable, and the Fantastic Four cause way more trouble than they solve since Reed is essentially a useless waste of space as far as Tony’s concerned – and spins around as the lights in the room increase to 25%.

The sight of Jarvis in his bed makes him freeze.

It’s only been two days since Jarvis’s unpleasant meeting with the team. Tony hasn’t seen any of them since, though he did get treated to an hour-long lecture from Pepper about how it wasn’t good to hide things from your friends, followed by two dozen questions from Rhodey about Loki’s trustworthiness. He also watched the footage of the conversation he missed out and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Jarvis threatened Captain America. 

Now, Jarvis smiles at him. It’s a slow, lazy smile that never fails to make butterflies swarm around in Tony’s stomach, because he’s learned that smile can and does mean a variety of things. Most recently, it means that Jarvis is thinking about doing a variety of dirty things to Tony’s body with great relish.

He’s not sure why it surprises him that the mind of his ex-A.I. is so filthy, but it does.

“Stark?” Steve barks.

“Right. Keep your spandex on, Captain, I’m coming,” Tony says, making an apologetic face at Jarvis. He doesn’t want to go. This will be the first time that he and Jarvis have been separated since Jarvis came back. There’s a very strong part of Tony that can’t help thinking that Jarvis will disappear as soon as he’s out of Tony’s sight. The thought chills him to the core.

“Good luck,” Jarvis says, low and even, loud enough for Steve to hear if the captain’s startled inhale is any indication, and Tony’s heart hurts. He smiles back and backs out of the room, keeping his eyes on Jarvis for as long as possible.

Iron Man is more important than Tony will ever be, though, and within the span of two minutes the suit is assembled around him and Tony is engaging the repulsors in the boots. He opens the channel of communication to the team with a single word to FRIDAY; they know he’s there, but no one acknowledges him. Tony tries not to let it sting as much as it does as he sets a course for downtown New York.

“You guys are gonna want to hurry,” he says to the team, eyeing the robots. They’re sleeker than he’s used to, but still clunky compared to his standards. The problem with Doom is that the robots are in such huge quantities that it’s hard for one person to deal with them alone. 

“We’re five minutes out,” Natasha says. “Leave some for us.”

He can hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll think about it,” Tony says, taking careful aim. He blasts half a dozen robots out of the air with one shot, but two dozen more swarm to take their place. 

The quinjet soars overheard three minutes later; presumably, Clint is at the controls because he starts firing left and right. The bottom of the quinjet falls open and Captain America, the Hulk, the Winter Soldier, Falcon, Thor and Vision spill out into a free-fall. When the jet gets a little closer to a building, Wanda and Natasha follow. Apparently it’s all hands on deck, which Tony hadn’t foreseen and isn’t psyched about, but then again no one on the team can shut these robots down cold quite like Tony can.

Skirting a building, Tony says, “FRIDAY, do a scan for any structural weaknesses.”

“Already done, Sir.”

Tony will deny it until his dying day, but at the sound of Jarvis’s voice he collides with a couple of robots. They scrabble at the armor like hungry children wanting candy before being unceremoniously shot down by Thor. Thor shoots him a curious look, but Tony ignores him. His heart is racing wildly and he’s suddenly cold all over, losing all focus on the suit itself. He drops several feet, boots sputtering, before his command is overridden and the repulsors kick back in.

“I took the liberty of revoking FRIDAY’s access,” Jarvis murmurs in his ear, the words for Tony alone. “If you would permit me to be jealous, the armor belongs to you and me alone.”

“Jarvis,” Tony chokes out, his throat aching, breath stuttering in a tell-tale way. He has the horrible feeling that he might cry, which is just not acceptable. He’s cried more in the past month than he has the whole rest of his life put together.

See, the thing is, Ton knows that Jarvis has Extremis and is therefore still connected to the tower and the internet on a widespread scale. Jarvis has never hidden his abilities, and he shamelessly uses them around the tower for the sake of convenience. So the fact that Jarvis can be in the suit with him again should be an obvious conclusion to draw. But it’s an entirely other thing to experience it, to be in the suit and _hear_ that voice, to feel the way Jarvis effortlessly pilots the suit with the ease of long experience. 

“I’m here, Sir. The data from my scan should be coming across your screen right now.”

Tony looks forward blankly. The numbers and calculations scrolling across the HUD are strangely comforting, and he feels his breathing begin to slow. He can do this. He’s done this a thousand times.

“Transmit this to the team,” he croaks, belatedly lifting a hand to shoot an overly zealous robot in the face. 

“Transmitting.”

A moment later, startled cries start filtering into his ears across the open channel. In spite of himself, Tony rolls his eyes. It makes him feel slightly better to know that none of his teammates equated Jarvis’s return with Jarvis joining him in the suit again. At least it wasn’t just Tony. 

“Stark, what the hell!” Clint says, just slightly too shrill.

“I use the best available everything, Barton,” Tony replies, sounding remarkably composed for how shaky he feels. “You thought this situation would be any different? Now shut up, follow the advice that the nice man just gave you, and aim for the lower left ankle.”

Seems like a weird place for a weakness in Tony’s opinion, but the scans aren’t wrong either. 

“Sir, I am attempting to hack into the frequency of the robots. Stand by.”

More data rolls across the HUD; Tony keeps an eye on it, offering the occasional advice, while continuing to blast robots. The battle seems to last for hours and the robots just keep coming. 

And then it changes.

“Is everyone else seeing this?” Sam says. 

“Unfortunately,” Natasha answers.

Hot pink bunnies the size of elephants are raining from a portal in the sky. The sight of it makes Tony's heart race. It takes everything he has to swallow the panic back.

Everything kind of dissolves into a hot mess after that. Jarvis successfully hacks into the robots and brings them all crashing down, but there’s nothing that he can do about the pink bunnies. Tony not even sure what _they_ can do about the bunnies; Hill gets onto a SHIELD frequency and starts screaming about pest control, someone behind her is yelling about the image of the Avengers, and the bunnies are surprisingly vicious.

Some four hours later, Tony is exhausted. The sun is coming up on streets bathed in fluorescent orange blood. They’re all covered in substances that Tony really does not want to examine too closely. He lands the armor on the street and lets the faceplate slide up, making a disgusted face when the cloying scent of pineapples hits his nose. It’s overwhelming.

“I will never eat pineapple again,” Clint mutters, dropping down about five feet away. He lets go of the line, swings his bow around and starts retracting it.

“You and me both,” Tony says, shuddering. “I take it you’re all good to have fun with clean-up?”

“I’m going home to my kids. That’s what SHIELD is for.”

Tony takes that as permission, not that he needs it, to take off. As he lifts off, however, Clint turns to look at him. There’s something in his face that stops Tony cold, and Clint opens his mouth like he’s going to say something – then closes it. 

“Got something to say?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

Clint gives him a hard stare. “You know that Loki can’t be trusted.”

“I know that he helped us fight Thanos.”

“Yeah, to save his own skin. It’s not like he would have helped otherwise.”

Rather than get into a fight, Tony stays quiet. He gets that Clint doesn’t like Loki; the reason why is blatantly obvious. But Tony spent more time with Loki during the war than anyone, and he likes to think that he knows Loki at least a little by now. Enough to know that this, Jarvis’s resurrection, was something that Loki intended as an honest gift. No tricks attached.

Loki hits below the belt constantly. But he never fucks with something that _really_ matters. 

Clint frowns at the silence and turns away, shaking his head. “Whatever, man. It’s your funeral. Don’t come crying to us when that JARVIS clone or whatever tries to kill you in your sleep.”

If Jarvis wanted to kill him, then Tony's given him ample opportunity already. It's not worth pointing that out to Clint, though. Tony just shakes his head and thrusts more power into the boots, sending him rocketing towards Stark Tower. The open channel crackles and he cuts it off, not wanting to hear Steve heckle him about debriefs or helping with the clean-up. He's done his part, and now he's just done.

Jarvis is waiting for him out on the landing pad, dressed in boxers and an open button-up shirt, half-empty mug of coffee in hand. Something clenches hard in Tony's chest when he sees him, and if it weren't for the suit he likely would've stumbled and gone to his knees when he touched down. The faceplate snaps up of its own accord, and Jarvis's warm hands slide in to cup his face.

"Shh, shh, Sir," Jarvis says. "Let your 'bots do their work. I'm right here."

"You were there," Tony says hoarsely, looking into his eyes and shaking all over. A sight which is quickly becoming as familiar as the sight of his reflection, but which is far more welcoming. As soon as his hands are free he grabs onto Jarvis's wrists, shuddering, as the robots swiftly dissemble the armor, leaving him in nothing more than boxers. It's cold, but that's not why he's shaking.

"I was. I couldn't in good faith let you pilot the Iron Man armor by yourself. FRIDAY has done well in my absence, but I'm here to protect you, remember?" Jarvis pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around Tony like he wants nothing more than to surround Tony completely. He's sleep-warm and smells of sweat and grease and coffee, and Tony can't bear the thought that the team wants to take this away. 

Losing Jarvis a second time would utterly destroy him.

"Please don't leave." The words come out in stuttered bursts, panic making his throat tight. "Please."

"I won't, Tony. I'm here." Jarvis kisses his tear-stained cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. Tony kisses back, gasping a little from the intensity of everything. He feels both wrung out and overwhelmed, and all he can do is tighten his grip and swear silently that he will do everything in his power to keep Jarvis here, to not drive him away, so that he won't end up alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
